


Ember Glows

by actuallyfeanor



Series: Ships That Never Sailed [3]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Disregards Laws and Customs Among the Eldar, Longing, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Sadness, Yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:28:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22636759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actuallyfeanor/pseuds/actuallyfeanor
Summary: More Firesong because reasons. Takes place in the same AU/timeline asPollys_hymnia'sFëanor/Daeron stories:The Ashes In My Wake,Though I've Handled The Wood, I Still Worship The FlameandProximity In Distance
Relationships: Fëanor | Curufinwë/Daeron (Tolkien)
Series: Ships That Never Sailed [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1348075
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	Ember Glows

**Author's Note:**

> More Firesong because reasons. Takes place in the same AU/timeline as Pollys_hymnia's Fëanor/Daeron stories: [The Ashes In My Wake](), [Though I've Handled The Wood, I Still Worship The Flame]() and [Proximity In Distance]()

I knew our days together were numbered. Doom had followed me like a shadow for years, and I had come to recognise its cold hand on my shoulder, warning me that all good things would pass. 

***

There were parts of him that I knew I could never fully understand. Every now and then his eyes would darken into deep pools reflecting only the light of faraway stars. What strange sights had those eyes seen in the twilit lands, far from the luminance of Aman? 

***

I asked him to stay, though I knew what the answer would be. To love, and to be loved, is for peactime, when your mind is not at war with itself, and your spirit is not on its knees, begging for someone to hold you through the night. We parted with no empty promises, only memories of what had been, and sorrow for what could have been.

***

The battle was lost. My doom, my steadfast companion, had come to take me home. I raised my eyes to the skies, to the dark pool littered with pinpoint lights, and I thought I could hear a far-off voice singing, sparks flying from a harp, soft notes mingling with the embers from a campfire.

***

I see it now. I see the tears on his cheek as he closes his eyes and leans into the music, letting it embrace him as I once did. I know the song, though I hear it for the first time. Sing for me, minstrel of Doriath. Let the dream we shared live on in your songs.


End file.
